


Random Rimming PWP

by WebbedUpKatanas



Category: Marvel
Genre: M/M, Rimming, Uh that's all there is to it really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-23
Updated: 2014-02-23
Packaged: 2018-01-13 00:33:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1206232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WebbedUpKatanas/pseuds/WebbedUpKatanas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pretty much what it says in the title. Peter likes to make Wade moan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Random Rimming PWP

Peter looks up to see Wade writhing in pleasure, and can’t help but smile. He loves the intimacy of this, sprawled out on the bed with his fingers pushing slow and deep into him, seeking that spot that makes him absolutely lose his mind.

Wade is talking non-stop, babbling endearments and moaning like a porn star. He’s almost unintelligible, the words are falling so fast and loose from his mouth.

Peter pulls the two fingers out almost all the way before pushing back into him, slowly, but with a force that has Wade shaking. “Peter. You’re so good. Peter, please, I need more. God. So fucking good,” the words trip out of his mouth staccato, and Peter can’t stop himself from the quiet moan that slips out.

“Wade. You’re so gorgeous like this,” he says over the flow of words, relishing in the way Wade bucks his hips like he can’t restrain himself, fucking down onto his fingers.

Peter ghosts a breath over his neglected cock and Wade actually whimpers. He’s revelling in this, the power to reduce Wade Wilson to a whimpering mess with just his fingers. He wants to shake him apart, watch him as he is slowly overwhelmed with the pleasure, his motor mouth running faster than usual.

He drags his mouth down his thigh in an open mouthed kiss, his tongue tracing patterns into his skin as his fingers thrust in hard short jabs. He smirks against his skin, pulling his fingers out and repositioning him for better access.

“Peter. No. Keep going, God. I’m gonna fucking stab you, don’t stop,” Wade rambles, but Peter only smiles, and shushes him. “Just a second,” he says, before leaning down to lick at his hole. Wade yelps in surprise, his hips bucking up so that Peter has to hold him down to keep him still.

He swirls his tongue in lazy circles around the ring of muscle before pushing in slightly. The way that Wade is panting and squirming causes heat to pool in his stomach, and he’s so turned on it’s hard to keep from touching himself, but he wants this to be about Wade.

He can’t help thinking that Wade is like this for him and him alone. His mouth is too busy moaning and gasping profanities to form actual sentences, and Peter gloats silently that he is the only one who can stem the constant stream of chatter in any lasting way.

He’s licking up into him now, and Wade’s hands are tangling in his hair, pulling just sharp enough to be both painful and perfectly pleasurable, and Peter doesn’t bother to stifle his moan.

“Peter, fucking, Peter, oh oh oh,” the litany of sounds spilling from Wade’s mouth is building in intensity as Peter works his tongue in and out of him. He’s close, and Peter’s half tempted to be cruel, to stop and have him beg and plead for it, just to prove he can.

But then he groans like Peter is the best thing he’s ever encountered, and begins stroking his hairline almost gently compared to the roughness of his voice and his words, and Peter can’t help but feel a rush of affection and pride.

He pulls back, leaning up to lick a hot stripe up his cock and Wade is coming hard over his lips with choked sound.

“Peter,” he sighs. So Peter clambers back up the bed, stealing a closed mouth kiss and letting Wade lick his own come off his lips, heat spiking through him at how willingly he complies.

He reaches down to stroke roughly at his cock, coming after only four strokes, high off of the pleasure and power and sentiment coursing through his body.

He finally flops down on top of an already boneless Wade, sticky but sated. Wade’s sleepy smirk tells him there will be some seriously pleasurable retaliation later, but the hands rubbing idly at his back are lulling him to sleep, and he nuzzles his face into his neck, letting himself drift off to the quiet contented noises Wade is making against his hair.


End file.
